


These Games We Play.

by psyleedee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologies, Breaking Up & Making Up, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Crying, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Face Punching, Feelings, Fights, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, House Party, Jealous Dean Winchester, Kissing, Love, M/M, Making Up, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Neck Kissing, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Post-Break Up, Romance, Sexual Tension, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:07:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22572982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psyleedee/pseuds/psyleedee
Summary: His eyes are set on Castiel.He looks so damn smug, throwing his arms around that guy- is that Michael? Whatever. Not like Dean cares. He absolutely, completely doesn't care about how Cas is smiling at Michael, all shy and sweet, or that Michael keeps squeezing his waist, or that they keep laughing and swaying on the dance floor, or that Castiel seems genuinely interested in Michael.~•~Dean hates that his ex-boyfriend is getting close with another man, and inevitably, Dean gets into a fight with the man, only to have Castiel interfere. Things take a striking turn, leaving Dean and Castiel with a decision to make.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 153





	These Games We Play.

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt was given to me by the wonderful @brazencas on tumblr in our group chat Destiel Clown. The song is Games by Luke Bryan. It's a wonderful song so you guys should listen to it. 
> 
> Also: WARNING: This fic contains a very small mention of Dean hitting Castiel under the influence of alcohol. Take note that in no way does the author condone or support such behaviors, which is why the mention is very brief. This fic does not portray Dean as a physical abuser in any way.

The girl in his arms is surprisingly responsive. She's got long brown hair, deep eyes and a bright cherry gloss on her lips. There's this short, sparkly dress she's wearing that hitches up every time she presses against Dean's thighs, but he hardly cares. 

His eyes are set on Castiel. 

He looks so damn smug, throwing his arms around that guy- is that Michael? Whatever. Not like Dean cares. He absolutely, completely doesn't care about how Cas is smiling at Michael, all shy and sweet, or that Michael keeps squeezing his waist, or that they keep laughing and swaying on the dance floor, or that Castiel seems genuinely interested in Michael. 

Dean doesn't care. It isn't like the girl in his arms isn't bothered, it's just that, Dean can't help wandering his gaze over to Castiel every once in a while. Once in a while meaning every minute. 

Dean tries to tear his eyes away, he really does. It's probably what Castiel wants. That slut. He's probably spreading his legs for the first guy he sees, now that he doesn't have to put up with Dean. Wait no, that's low to say, even for Dean. Whatever. Maybe he should just take the girl home and fuck her, until his mind forgets about blue eyes and fluffy raven black hair. 

When he looks back up at Castiel, wait, where's Castiel? Dean lets go of the girls hips, relieved at having an excuse to not touch her, as he nods at her and walks over to the bar. 

"Two whiskeys."  
He says, glad that the bartender hears him over the loud music. 

The room smells like sweat, cologne and sex. There's bodies grinding against each other, and although the room is fairly big, especially considering this is Garth's house party (no one knew he was that rich), it still feels constricted and cramped with all the couples practically having clothed sex to a song nobody cares about. 

Right as he turns to the bartender, a body crashes into him, and he clicks his tongue on reflex, glancing up to see who dashed into him. 

It's none other than Michael. 

Dean rolls his eyes and raises his eyebrows at the man. Michael is fairly attractive, hell, if he wasn't his type, Dean would've loved to get it on with him, even for a night. 

"Sorry 'bout that."  
Michael grunts and motions for the bartender to get him two whiskeys. 

As they wait there, Michael turns to Dean with a knowing grin. 

"You're Dean, right?"

"Yeah. Why?"  
Dean asks, not bothering to look at Michael. 

"Nothing, just..."  
Michael shakes his head, as if to himself, and turns the other way, leaning down on the counter. 

"Just what?"  
Dean prompts, and Michael gives him a once over. 

"Nothing, just that Castiel told me 'bout you. Sorry if that's weird or something."

"Of course he did."  
Dean rolls his eyes, and sighs. 

"You uh, used to be together, right?"  
Michael moves in closer, and Dean locks his jaw, feeling his heart thump louder in his chest. 

"Hmm."  
He grits his teeth, and prays the bartender would hurry up. 

"You uh, mind if I try to woo him and shit? I mean, not that it matters, I just need to know more 'bout him. 'Cause he's great, cute, I mean, and that ass? God..."  
Michael chuckles to himself at his lewd comment, and Dean wishes, to whatever deity may have it's ears on, to open the ground up so that it may swallow him. He just can't believe Michael would say that to him. You don't just talk to someone about their ex like that. What a fucking a dick. Either he knows exactly what he's doing, or he's a major time dumbo. Either ways, that shit is just evil. 

"I don't care what you do with Castiel."

"You know, Dean, I think you do. 'Cause if you didn't, you wouldn't keep staring at him like you want to devour him."

Dean wants to punch something. _Someone_. 

So he does. 

It happens in an instant. One moment he's thinking about how much he hates Michael, the other his hand is on the guy's sharp jaw. 

"Woah?! You crazy?"  
Michael yells, staggering back, more caught off-guard than hurt. 

"Michael?"  
Castiel voice rings from behind them, and both men turn at once, catching Castiel's eyes flickering between both of them. 

Just like Dean knows they will, Castiel's eyes settle on Dean, almost ignoring the existence of Michael beside him. It means nothing, yet he can't help but feel a sliver of pride. 

"What the fuck is going on? Mike, you said you were going to get a drink?"  
Castiel asks, eyes still fixed on Dean. Even in the dim, colourful lights, Dean catches distinctly, the way Castiel's jaw tightens, and his eyes harden. 

"Sorry, Cas, I-"

No one calls him Cas except Dean. No one gets to touch him except Dean. How dare he. How dare Cas? He thinks he can just get Dean all worked up like this and not know the consequences? 

An unexplainable, feral urge courses through Dean, as he lays another punch across Michael's face, making the other man stagger down, and in an instant, Castiel is over, but not at Dean's side. Instead, he's crouching next to that sissy Michael, glaring up at Dean with wide eyes. 

"Dean? Have you lost your goddamn mind?!"

He knows Castiel is yelling. He knows Michael is bleeding. He knows the bartender is shouting. He knows the music has stopped. He knows everyone is staring at him. 

But for a moment, there's nothing there except him. 

Did he just... Did he just hurt someone? 

Oh god. Oh god, no. 

The world around him blurs out for a moment, voices muffling, as a high pitched whistle rings through his ears. He wants it to stop. Please, oh god, stop.   
The eyes, the scrutiny, the blood, the strangeness of it all overwhelms Dean. 

So he does what he's best at. He runs. 

Dean stomps away, the crowd parting on its own as he steps through, until he finds the bathroom, and hides himself inside. 

He can't go back. Not like that. Not when Castiel's seen him like this. No doubt, he's seen Dean at worse, but there's something about this situation that's simply so strange and familiar at the same time. 

As he rests his head against the bathroom door, he can't help but think about the feel of skin against his knuckles. 

He realizes why it feels familiar. 

All at once, he's back to the day that changed his life. It's one of those days where every thing seems to be against Dean, and he's at the bar to grab a couple of drinks. He could've drunk at home, but something about the alien atmosphere in a bar just feels better. 

When he staggers back home, he knows he's had a little too much. He knows that he's not in the right mind. Not even to speak. And that's just when Castiel has to bring shit up. So what if he was a couple hours late? And so what if he'd been late for a week altogether? He's gotta run a house, pay bills, buy shit for Cas and himself. Sure Cas earns too, but a little extra money doesn't seem bad, especially when he's trying to save up for a wedding ring. Do you know how expensive one of those things is? 

Cas is shouting. God, he doesn't want to hear him shout, he really wishes Cas would shut up. 

And then he does.

But the thing is, there's a drop of blood on Dean's knuckle, and Cas is leaning back against the counter, with a bleeding lip and fat, wet tears in his eyes. 

Dean hates himself. He really does. 

He just wishes he could make things right. But he can't. Because the next morning, Castiel isn't there to wake him up with a kiss and a mug of coffee. He isn't in the kitchen, to sneak up behind and kiss, and wrap arms around. 

All that's left is Dean's coffee, cold, in a mug, and a note under it. 

It's too late. And that's when Dean realizes, the night before, may have been the last he sees of Castiel. 

And if he cries everyday for a month after that, that's nobody's business but his. 

A loud bang on the door behind him startles him, and he steps back, wiping his face, on the back of his palm. He turns away. He isn't afraid of anyone, but he doesn't want anyone to see him like this either, all torn apart and fucked up. It's to the point where he can't hold himself, and clasps onto the edge of the ceramic sink. 

The door clicks, and swings open just as quick as it shuts. He's ready to fight Michael again, for all it's worth, but the scent that fills his senses is nothing more to him than the simple smell of home. It's Castiel's cologne, his favourite. Dean remembers, when they were together, how he would secretly replace Castiel's empty cologne bottle with a new one, smiling at his surprise. After all, it is always the little things. 

"Dean?"  
Castiel's voice is there, creeping inside him like a vine, and Dean can't move, no, not a single inch. All he can do is weep and squeeze the ceramic harder in his hands. 

"What the fuck did you do back there?"

His voice is softer than Dean expects, like he still thinks Dean deserves it. Pathetic. After all, he's the one who should know better than anyone else, how fucked-up Dean is, and how he isn't even deserving of mere pity. 

"Fuck up. Like always."  
Dean mutters, not bothering to open his eyes, no matter how hard his heart screams at him to get a single glimpse of Castiel, up close. 

"I-"

"Get out, Cas. You don't need to come here and show me how pathetic I am. I already know."

Castiel goes silent at that. 

"You know, I just came up to make sure you were okay-"

Dean draws in an exasperated breath, eyes blinking open as he glares at Castiel through the mirror in front of him, hands squeezing hard enough for his knuckles to go white.   
"Yeah, well, I'm great, I am having a fucking blast. You can leave now."

"You know, you're right. You do fuck up, like always. You keep pushing away the people who care for you, and you never bother to make an effort to get them back... But weeping in a fucking bathroom, punching random guys, yeah, you're great at that."  
Castiel shrugs, and Dean can hear his voice quiver. 

For a moment, silence drowns them, the only sound being the muffled, faint beat of the music playing below them. 

"What's it to you? I'll do whatever the fuck I want."  
Dean turns, and for the first time in months, he sees Castiel. Just sees him. Sees how he's changed. 

He's lost a little weight, his face looks smaller, paler. There isn't much change, except for the darkness under his eyes, and the pain within. 

And that's a hell of a big change, if you ask Dean. Dean remembers a time Castiel's eyes were a mischievous, light blue, a youthful essence within them. Dean remembers the playfulness within them when Dean would sneak up behind Cas as he cooked, startling him with a gasp, as Dean would slide his arms around his lover, laughing like a child. 

Now there's just something broken inside those eyes. And God, how Dean wishes he could fix that, but part of him knows, he never can, no matter what. 

"You always do whatever the fuck you want."  
Castiel says, eyes fixed onto Dean's face. God, Dean just wants to reach out, hold him in his arms, squeeze him until everything's alright, but this isn't a dream. This is reality. And reality is never happy. 

"I'm sorry. Is that it? Can I go now?"  
Dean chokes out, embarrassed as it sounds much weaker than he wants it to. 

"No one's stopping you."  
Castiel mutters, and all at once, Dean becomes aware of just how close they are. All Dean would have to do is tug his arm to press his lips onto Cas's, but he's sure the other man wouldn't be as open to the idea as he is. 

"You didn't tell me why you did that. Punch Michael."  
Castiel says, and his gaze drops, as if ashamed to have seen Dean. 

"I couldn't-"  
Dean swallows, and feels himself get breathless by each second, as he shuts his eyes, letting his head loll back on the wall.   
"I couldn't keep hearing him speak about you like that."

"Like what?"

"Like he cared for you."

"Why not?"

"'Cause-"

Dean realizes what Castiel is doing, and sighs. 

"'Cause reasons."

A moment passes, and something feels odd. 

He's about to open his eyes, when all at once, something collides with his jaw, and he yelps, eyes fluttering open and hand reaching to press pressure onto the pain. 

"The fuck?!"

Castiel is crying. Okay, too much is happening. Castiel punched him. His jaw hurts. And Cas is the one crying. 

"You deserve it."  
Castiel chokes out, and it looks like he's just a second away from breaking down altogether. 

Dean rubs his jaw, and sighs.   
"I do."

It's like a switch flipping inside Castiel, where he holds onto the sink, and cries. His head hangs down, and he cries, as hard as he can. 

Cas is crying. 

Dean doesn't know why, he blames it on instincts, but he reaches out to rub his hand over Castiel's shoulder. 

"Baby, stop..."  
The words leave his lips faster than he thinks of saying them, but Castiel cries harder. 

It feels just like that day. Castiel crying. Dean watching him helplessly. 

"Cas, please... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to punch Michael, I just-"

"You think I care about Michael? Just stop being so stupid, Dean?! Do I look like a give a shit if you tear him apart?"  
Castiel sobs out, turning to Dean, glaring at him through tears. 

"Well, you looked like you were having fun dancing with him."

"God..."  
Castiel shakes his head incredulously, and at times like these, Dean really wishes he could tape his own mouth shut. 

And so it hits Dean. It had never been about Michael. It had always been about Dean. 

Dean wants to punch himself. He tries to be nice, alright? But he can't help it. Not when his mind to mouth filter is all fucked. But the moment it really begins to sink in, is the moment Castiel stops. He just stops. He presses the back of his palm against his lips, like he's forcing his sobs inside, and then he weeps silently. 

Dean's eyes fix onto a single tear that rolls down the inside of his eye, sliding down his cheek effortlessly, and splattering against the floor. 

Cas is crying. 

His Cas. 

The man he's loved for more than half of his life. The man that's stayed with him when Dean didn't even know if he was himself. Cas has been with him through thick and thin, literally. He's been there as they graduated, side by side. He's been there when Mary passed. He's been there when Sam graduated. He's always been where it matters. And now, Dean can't help but think of this man, this man he knows since he was an awkward little teenage boy. They've shared so much together. And here Cas is, persistent as ever, just trying to talk, make things right. And Dean is doing what he always does. Pushing him away. 

"You're hopeless, Dean. God, I hate you."  
Castiel shakes his head, biting down on his bottom lip to refrain from crying, and damn it, the guy's really trying to hold it in, Dean can just see it. 

His hand falls away from his face, and Dean's eyes wander down to his tear stained lips. 

And then he doesn't think. 

He just does. 

He grabs Cas's face, and dives in, pressing their lips together.   
"De-mhh?!"  
Castiel's eyes widen, the shock hitting him, before he melts in Dean's arms, hands wrapping around Dean's neck, as he pulls him in deeper. Dean's hands never leave Cas's face, and he kisses him, as hard as he possibly can, making up for all the days he couldn't. 

There's tears, Dean can feel them. Damp against both of their cheeks, and there's a slight hiccup as Castiel calms himself down, trying not to cry. But he does anyway. And so does Dean. God, Dean's missed this, more than anything else in the world. All at once, he feels at home, right in Castiel's arms, pressing against his body, feeling his hands touch him, roam over his back as they kiss, the world around them non-existent for the while. 

Right now, he can't help but feel like he's sixteen, falling in love with Castiel all over again. His lips are just as soft and welcoming as ever, and he's drinking in as much as he can of Dean's mouth, fingers carding through the hair at Dean's nape, as they rock against each other. 

They can't stop. They just can't stop. Dean can't break away from Castiel, because as silly as it sounds, he's afraid he'll lose him again, and he doesn't want that. No, he never wants to lose Castiel again, and he needs Castiel to know. 

"I love you-" He says between a kiss, holding Castiel's face like a treasure in his hands. "-so much-" Another kiss. 

Castiel is the one to ultimately pull away, as he weeps, tears staining Dean's own cheek as Castiel rests his forehead against Dean's, hands cradling his face as they pant, completely breathless. 

"God, I love you so much, Cas, I can't even tell you how much I hated not being with you."

"I shouldn't have brought it up. That day, I just thought about how you hurt me, not about how you felt. I should've been more understanding-"  
Castiel starts, but Dean shuts him up with a stroke of his thumb against his lip. 

"No, no, Cas, it's my fault, I, I punched you, god, do you know how much I hate myself for that?"

"Dean-"

"No, I'm so sorry, Cas, I never should've- you don't deserve this. You're too good for me..."  
Dean lets it all out. He doesn't keep a thing in. Just goes with the flow. 

"Hey, look, I know you, I've known you for years, and I know that the man who punched me that day, that's not my Dean. It hurts me, still, but I know it wasn't you. You're not like that, I know-"  
Castiel says, and God, Dean can't even begin to express how relieved he feels at those words. 

"I wanted to apologize, Cas, I really did, I just- I didn't think you'd want to even listen... I'm so sorry..."

"It's in the past, okay? I forgive you. Besides, I did get to punch you, so I think we're okay now."  
Castiel huffs a grin, and Dean laughs, dropping his hands to wrap around Castiel's back, pulling him in for a tight hug. He lets his head drop against Castiel's shoulder and buries his face in the crook of Cas's neck, eyes shut, hands squeezing Cas's body. 

"M'so sohrry-"   
Dean mutters, muffled against Castiel's skin. The only response Dean gets is Castiel's fingers carding through his hair. 

"Cash, m'sohryy-"  
Dean says again, and Castiel cracks a grin, leaning down to drop a kiss in Dean's hair. 

"S'okay, baby..."  
Castiel mutters, letting the silence drench them. 

There's things that still need to be talked about, problems that need to be solved, conversations they need to have, but Dean knows now, for sure, that they have time for that. So for a while, he lets himself stay just like that, buried in Cas's arms. 

He still can't believe he's worthy enough of Castiel, that he even deserves to have someone as pure and kind as Cas, as a lover. But Cas is here now, and he's promised he'd never leave. 

Even if it sounds unbelievable, Dean will take it. 

Because no matter what, this is what home is to him. This is what love is to him. 

And come to think of it... Maybe he should continue saving up for that ring. 

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment if you liked the fic! also this might be the last fic I post before going on hiatus (lol no it's finals) so if I get time I might post something but I'm still not sure. thanks for reading guys!


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